


Suspicious Minds

by Lemon_and_Honey



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Caring Sam Winchester, Dean/Castiel - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, Flashbacks, Fluff and Angst, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mute Gabriel (Supernatural), Nightmares, PTSD, Romance, Sabriel - Freeform, Slow Burn, Smut, Violence, sam/gabriel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-04-25 05:42:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lemon_and_Honey/pseuds/Lemon_and_Honey
Summary: Even though Gabriel can't talk, Sam tries his best to listen. Sometimes silence can speak louder than words.





	Suspicious Minds

**Author's Note:**

> Well, it feels like I'm kind of late to the party, but I finally got around to watching the last few Supernatural episodes. I'll be honest, I really, really enjoyed the new episodes and I'm glad that Gabriel's back to being his bad ass self, but I can't help but feel a little disappointed. I kind of wanted them to draw out the injured Gabriel arc and have him bond more with Sam and Cas (and possibly Jack). I know he'll be back, but not soon enough. So, this is happening. A little cannon divergence to make me happy. Some Sabriel, some angel bros, and a little bit of uncle Gabe to top it off. I hope you all enjoy and, if you have any tips or suggestions, comment down below. Thanks so much for reading!

Over the years, Sam had seen a lot of impossible things. 

He watched the angels fall, came face to face with God, took a one-way trip to hell. He witnessed the apocalypse, the rising of Lucifer, and duked it out with some of the biggest baddies in the universe. But this; this was surprising. This was something he had never even dreamed of happening. Gabriel- the archangel Gabriel- sitting right in front of him, alive but not so well, with his lips sewn shut. Gabriel the trickster. Gabriel the almighty. Gabriel the biggest douchebag this side of the cosmos who he watched get stabbed in the gut by none other than Lucifer himself. And yet, here he was. 

And Sam felt nothing but pity for him. 

Steadying himself, the hunter picked up the small scalpel from the tableside, watching as the blade caught and gleamed in the overhead light. There was an air of uneasy about as he considered the best way to proceed. 

Gabriel sat in front of him, eyes roaming vacantly around the room. Every once in a while, he would hone in on Sam, staring at him pleadingly before going back to his ceaseless skimming. Nevertheless, even though his attention seemed to be scrambled, the introduction of the scalpel was not lost upon him. Immediately, when the blade came into play, Gabriel's demeanor changed and Sam could feel the fear rolling off him in waves. It was like a sharp punch to the gut. 

For a long moment, he hesitated, unsure if he had it in him to continue. He watched Gabriel silently, drinking in every gory detail the man displayed. His face was bloody, beaten, and bruised. His eyes gleamed in the dim light, glossy and vacant, unable to focus. His fingers twitched. His shoulders trembled. A knot formed in Sam's stomach and it only twisted tighter and tighter as he watched the man stare petrified at the small blade clutched in his hand. There was so much fear in his eyes. 

"It's okay. I promise. I'm not going to hurt you," Sam found himself whispering under his breath, trying his best to be comforting. 

The fact that Gabriel had even let him this close was a miracle. The man was shying away at every touch, jumping at every sound. He quickly alternated from being scared out of his mind to being completely numb. When addressing him, Sam got not even the slightest indication that he heard him. There was no resemblance of comprehension. It was like part of him was missing, lost in some far-off place where they couldn't quite reach. Ketch had warned them that Asmodeus had done unspeakable thing to the man but witnessing it so up close made Sam's blood run cold. The overwhelming sense of helplessness he felt, the sense of guilt as he looked into those empty, vacant eyes; it made him sick and he feared he wasn't fully equipped to do this.

He knew someone was going to have to. Dean definitely wasn't offering and Sam sure as hell wasn't about to let Ketch anywhere near Gabriel again, so this was the only alternative. But that didn't mean he was comfortable with it. Of course, he wanted to help. He wanted to do what he could to make things better, but he just didn't know how. He couldn't touch him, he couldn't talk to him, he couldn't ask if he was okay; Sam was just hoping that Gabriel wouldn't panic if he went slow enough. If he was careful enough. 

And so, with trembling fingers, he raised the scalpel to Gabriel's lips. The response was immediate as the man whimpered, pulling away when Sam applied pressure on the first few threads. It was one of, if not the only, responses he had given Sam since arriving. Other than the sheer panic he displayed when they mention his grace, Gabriel was silent. 

He flinched repeatedly as the hunter went to work, cutting with careful precision. His eyes traveled aimless around the room as he refused to look at the man. The only acknowledgement Sam received that alluded to the fact that Gabriel knew what was going on was his constant whimpering. The noises cut through the silence and made Sam pause at every instance, fearful that he had injured the archangel. 

"Gabriel, hey, what happened to you?" He asked as he finally finished unbinding Gabriel's lips, an enormous amount of relief flushing through him.  

The room quickly descended into uneasy as he waited for the archangel to do something, to say something. Instead, Gabriel was still, eyes staring numbly over Sam's shoulder. There was no recognition in his gaze. There was no resemblance of understanding. Only a cold empty stare that made Sam shiver at his core. As still as a statue, he remained unmoving. The hunter's question hung in the air, stilted and unanswered, plunging them into a heavy silence. Sam waited a moment longer before sighing and sitting the scalpel down. 

Just as he was about to ask again, Dean entered the room. 

Sam glanced over as he came striding through the middle of the hall, arms loaded down with a large metal bowl and all the items they would need for the spell. The look in his eyes was determined, unyielding, and Sam immediately understood his intentions. They were going and they were going now. 

"Alright," Dean said solemnly, not bothering to even glance at his brother or the archangel. "Let's do this." 

* * *

 

_Twenty-four hours. They have twenty-four hours,_  Sam repeated to himself as he took out his phone to check the time. It was nearing midnight.

He stood there in the empty hall, peering at the portal with a growing sense of trepidation. It would only be open for twenty-four hours. They had a day to rescue Jack and Mary before it closed. Before they too were trapped. That was almost too much for Sam to swallow. 

The helplessness he felt when tending to Gabriel was nothing compared to the helplessness he felt now. Whatever happened was out of his hands. Beyond his control. All he could do was sit and wait and hope that they came back alive.  _All_ of them. Dean, Jack, Mary, and yes, even Ketch.  

This was their chance- maybe their only chance- and failure wasn't an option. 

Right now, all Sam could do was trust that Dean had things under control. His brother was smart and clever and resourceful. Whatever they faced in there, he would find a way to deal with it. He always did. 

Repeating those words over and over again to himself, Sam pushed his worries as far from his mind as he could. 

_They can handle it, they can handle it, they can handle it,_  he recited as he turned his attention back to the injured archangel. 

Gabriel had hardly moved since Sam cut his stitches. He was now curled up in his chair, face planted into his knees as though he was trying to hide. He looked absolutely pitiful, shoulders trembling ever so slightly as Sam approached. 

"Gabriel, can you hear me?" Sam asked, gently reaching out to take the man by the shoulder. Immediately, he pulled away, jerking back in panic. It took him a moment to calm down, the tension gradually leaving him as Sam ran his hand soothingly along his arm. Even so, he refused to look up. 

"How are you feeling? Are you okay? Are you tired? Come on, you need to rest. You can stay in my room if you want," the hunter offered.

With as much patience and care as he could muster, Sam pulled the stricken archangel to his feet. The first few steps were laborious and painful, a heavy unease between them as Gabriel tried to assess the danger of the situation. He moved with a specific caution that could only form after enduring many days and many hours of mistreatment. He took his time walking through the bunker, heeding gentle directions from Sam as the hunter tried to steer him the right way. He didn't want to lead him nor did he want to force him to go; Sam tried his best to give Gabriel the freedom to move as he pleased- something he had certainly been lacking while in the custody of Asmodeus. Even so, it did nothing to change the archangel's terrified demeanor. 

By the time they reached Sam's room, Gabriel had begun to grow weary again, eyes scoping the hall endlessly as if he was expecting an attack. He curled his arms tightly over his chest, shrinking back against the far wall, as Sam pushed open his bedroom door. Taking the archangel tenderly by the arm, he led him inside. 

Sam's room was empty and sparse, lacking any of the personal touches that would have made it a home. He never felt the need to decorate and, even more deterring, rarely had the time. He preferred to spend what few moments of peace he had doing something productive. Interior design was not productive. 

Guiding Gabriel, watching with great concern as the archangel's state deteriorated further, he helped him clamber onto the bed. As soon as he was free from the hunter's grip, Gabriel once again curled up; knees to chest, face to knees. Sam watched as he slowly shook his head, shoulders heaving forward as if he might cry. There was no doubt about it that something awful was going through his mind, something that made him once again fall back into a state of silent catatonics. 

Sam's heart ached for the man as he stepped back, a million thoughts running through his head as he observed the archangel. He was so weak, so sick. Feeble, frail, fragile. Helpless. A pale comparison of the mighty force Sam had seen all those years ago. His spirit, his personality, his power; it was all gone and, from the looks of it, it wouldn't be coming back any time soon. He was just empty now, hollow. A mind without a voice. An angel without his grace. 

Feeling a mounting sense of guilt over take him, Sam considered the last thought for a moment longer. His grace. The grace of an archangel. How powerful was it? Very. And if Gabriel had his grace back... well, it might have changed things. 

Sighing to himself, knowing what he had to do, Sam addressed the cowering man in front of him, "Gabriel, I need to.... I'll be back in a minute, okay?" 

Of course, he received no response, but in that moment, it didn't matter. Sam knew he was going to regret this. He knew this was a bad idea. Dean was going to be pissed. And yet, as he watched the broken archangel curl up on the bed, laying back testily on the mattress, he knew it was the right thing to do. They had no right to torture him any longer. 

Stepping back out of the room, Sam took one last look at the archangel before flicking off the lights and closing the door. 

* * *

 

Sam had been dreading the moment that Castiel would return. 

He had hoped for more time. At least enough so that he could come up with a good response to the man's questions. But no. He was never so lucky. Sam had been on his way back to his bedroom, a metal dish with a lid clasped between his hands, when the angel arrived. 

As though he had set phasers to kill, Castiel immediately honed in on Sam, sensing that something was wrong from the moment he stepped foot in the bunker. Peering at him with that unbreakable gaze, he cocked his head slightly to the side and asked, "Is everything alright?" 

Those three little words were enough to make the youngest Winchester's blood run cold. Was everything alright? Well, there was a whole laundry list of appropriate responses, but Sam opted to sum it up in layman's terms. 

"Ketch showed up, Dean's gone, and Gabriel needs his grace," he rushed out in a single breath, fingers gripping the plate in his hands hard enough to bend the metal. 

The look on Castiel's face said it all; he was going to have to be more specific. An air of confusion clouded him as he waited patiently for the hunter to elaborate.

 So, taking a deep breath, Sam began from the beginning, recounting word for word the events of the following evening. Immediately, as understanding dawned, all the emotions that he had been expecting were present. Worry, anger, betrayal. He watched as Castiel bit the inside of his cheek to keep quiet, rage bubbling just beneath the surface. He was absolutely pissed and Sam wasn't sure if he was ready to face the man's unbridled fury alone. 

"Dean is in Apocalypse World alone?" There was a deep, foreboding rumble in Castiel's voice, like a storm on the horizon, as he followed Sam down the hallway. Having him so close like this was like holding a ticking time bomb; you never knew when it was going to blow. Sam could feel the prickle of sweat on the back of his neck as he tried to come up with a good response, knowing that if he said one word out of line the fuse would be lit. 

"N-no, he's not alone. He's with Ketch," Sam tried. 

"Because that makes it better?" 

"Cas, he wanted to go solo," the hunter justified, hoping that Castiel would understand. Dean was a stubborn son of a bitch and no one knew that better than Cas. If he wanted to do something, he was going to do it. And there was nothing anyone could do to stop him. 

"And you just let him go?" 

"Once again, no. He didn't really give me much of a choice. Anyways, Dean's right. As long as he's over there and we're over here, we need to take care of Gabriel and try to get him right again." 

"Gabriel?" Castiel sputtered, implying he either completely forgot about the archangel in all the Dean confusion or he didn't believe his brother's condition was so serious. Either way, he quickly realized that Sam was telling the truth. Gabriel did need them. As impossible as it seemed, he would be needing all the help he could get. 

Castiel followed close behind Sam as he pushed open the bedroom door. Inside, the lights were still off. Slowly, Sam reached around and flipped them on. Immediately, the room flickered into view and his heart plummeted to his feet. Something deep inside him twisted, achy and painful, as he peered inside. Castiel gasped softly behind him. 

Gabriel was no longer on the bed where Sam had left him. Instead, he had taken to the floor, curled into the fetal position and hiding behind the dresser. His head was down, arms looped around his knees, and Sam could hear him taking deep, panicked breaths. 

"You didn't tell me he was this bad," Castiel's voice broke as he turned away, face skewered up in distress.  

"Yeah, well, years of isolation and torture and then Asmodeus drains him of his grace," Sam said quietly, eyes never leaving the cowering archangel as he spoke. 

Stepping slowly into the room, he motioned for Castiel to follow, "Come here. Help me out." 

They approached the man with caution, trying their best to be as quiet as possible. Sam already knew how sensitive he could be and the last thing he wanted was to send the archangel back into a state of catatonics. Sitting the dish he was holding on the dresser, Sam bent down to Gabriel's level. Castiel stood close behind. 

"Hey Gabriel. Hey, it's okay!" Sam yelped as the archangel started, jerking away as the hunter's hand came to rest on his shoulder. "You're alright. We're just gonna- gonna get you to bed, alright? Let me help you up." 

Slowly, each of the men took one of his arms. Beneath his hands, Sam could feel Gabriel trembling. Fear radiated off him with every step as they helped him to the bed.

Immediately, as soon as he hit the mattress, Gabriel was curled up again, face barely visible over the top of his knees. Just like before, his eyes wandered aimlessly between them, flickering back and forth and up and down like he had no sense of direction. There was a distance to them, a glassy look that told Sam that he was a million miles away. Nevertheless, the hunter tried to get his attention. 

"It's okay. Everything is okay," he whispered warmly before placing a hand on the angel's shoulder, hoping his soothing words would keep him from shying away again. A small shudder ran through his body at Sam's touch, but other than that he remained still. Carefully, the hunter continued, "Gabriel, it's me. It's Sam Winchester. Do you remember?" 

No response. 

"I don't think he does," Castiel said with a solemn sigh. 

"Remember the video you sent to my brother Dean Winchester and me after you... supposedly died? You told us how to stuff Lucifer back into the cage."

"Sam, he doesn't..." 

"Yeah, I know he doesn't," Sam relented, turning away from the empty eyes of the sitting archangel. "I was just... trying to see if there's anything going on his head before..." 

"Before?" Castiel asked. 

Standing up straight, Sam quickly took the dish he had set on the dresser and held it out towards Castiel. For a moment, the man was confused. 

"This might help," he said, taking the lid off and tossing it to the side. There on the plate, wrapped gently in a towel, was a vial. Inside, Gabriel's grace shone bright blue, twisting and curling against the glass like rolling smoke. For a moment, Castiel didn't know what to say. 

"Is that...?" 

"His grace," Sam confirmed, nodding his head slowly as Castiel took the small vial in his hands, "Ketch brought it. Maybe- maybe if he's juiced up, it'll help." 

Taking the bottle back from Castiel, Sam held it tightly in his hand. He could feel the way it hummed against his palm, powerful and ceaseless. Bending down to Gabriel's level, he slowly uncapped it. 

"It's okay. It's gonna be fine. I promise," Sam said as he raised the vial to Gabriel's lips. Immediately, the man refused, jerking his head in the opposite direction and letting out a low, pitiful moan. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam could see Castiel's expression of discomfort and concern. 

Steadying himself, the hunter once again held the bottle up to him, garnering a response of the same affect. Gabriel reared his head back ferociously in an attempt to avoid contact, eyes wide as saucers as he peered at the crouching hunter. 

"Come on, Gabriel." Sam pleaded.

"Sam, I think a little coercion may be necessary," Castiel remarked dryly as the hunter lowered his arms and let out a defeated sigh. Glancing up at the angel, he nodded sharply, understanding passing between them. At this rate, the odds of giving Gabriel his grace back were slim to none. He certainly wasn't going to take it by his own free will. Despite the knot twisting ever tighter in his stomach, Sam stood up and handed Castiel the vial. 

Together, they rushed Gabriel, grabbing him by each shoulder and holding him in place. With one hand, ignoring the archangel's immediate pleas, Castiel forced the bottle to his lips. 

There was a moment of pure chaos as both men clung to him, trying desperately to keep their hold. Gabriel thrashed and kicked and shoved, pushing away from them with all the might he had left. The sound of his struggling echoed through the room, loud and achy and terrified. He cried out, retching his head to the side to keep the bottle from his lips, and Sam thought he looked like he might cry. There was nothing but terror in his eyes as he tried to escape. And, in the moment, Sam knew he was going to lose it. 

He wouldn't- he couldn't do this. Horrified, the hunter let go, allowing Gabriel to pull from Castiel's grip. Immediately, the archangel tumbled back across the bed, jumping up and striking the wall behind him with a sharp cry. Trembling, he collapsed to the floor. Sam watched with absolute horror as he scrambled backward, cowering into the corner and covering his face with his arms. There was a sickening desperation to the act that made Sam's knees weak. The panic, the absolute fear, that emanate from the archangel was just as jarring as it was disturbing and Sam couldn't help the overwhelming amount of guilt that flooded him. 

Mouth gaped, frozen to the spot, he tried to think of what to do next. He couldn't move, he couldn't speak; all he could do was stare at the man recoiled in the corner. 

"I-I didn't mean to...," Castiel stammered slowly, placing the vial of Gabriel's grace back onto the tray. His lips moved silently as he tried to think of something to say, expression one of utter distraught. Sam could see the shame burning in his eyes. Shame and remorse and anguish. For a moment, he couldn’t do anything but stare at the archangel too, reaching out before thinking better of it. 

 And then, without another word, Castiel put the lid back on the dish, took it from the dresser, and walked away. Sam stood there silently, trying to catch his breath, as the angel's footsteps disappeared down the hall. From the rigid way he walked to the look on his face, Sam felt pity for him. Pity for Castiel, pity for Gabriel; neither of them deserved to be in this kind of situation. 

Swallowing harshly, he moved towards the archangel.

"Gabriel," Sam started slowly, maneuvering around the bed and crouching down to his level. He left at least ten feet between them, hoping that the extra room would make the man more comfortable.  "Listen, I don't know if you can hear me or if you even recognize who I am, but I want you to know that I'm here for you. I'm not going to hurt you. I promise." 

And there his promise hung in the air, unanswered and unacknowledged, but just as meaningful. It didn't matter that the words fell upon deaf ears. All that mattered was the fact that he meant them. 

 

 


End file.
